Scrambled, just the way he likes it
by violetkisses
Summary: "Do you know how far the distance between two people who've turned their backs on each other is? You have to wander the whole world just to face the person you've turned your back on once again." Steve thinks, feels and hurts as he regrets his decision to leave Tony. He should never have left. He should have stayed.


**Scrambled, just the way he likes it**

**violetkisses**

_"You're impossible, Tony!" Steve growls, slamming his hands on the table. "What were you thinking?!"_

_"What was I thinking?" Tony asks incredulously. "What was I thinking?! I was thinking about saving you, Steve! If I hadn't taken that missile, you would have died! Even with the serum, your chances of recovery were low!"_

_"But it wasn't part of the plan! You could have compromised the mission and endangered everyone in the vicinity with your recklessness!"_

_"My recklessness saved your life, Steve!"_

_"Yeah? Well, I didn't ask you to save my life now, did I? I asked you to follow the plan, not ruin it!" He screams into Tony's face, his composure slipping away. He doesn't care about the guilt gnawing his gut at the hurt that crossed Tony's face. He doesn't care that all of the avengers plus Fury, Coulson and a few other agents were with them. All he wanted to do was hurt Tony because Tony could have hurt all of those innocent people because of what he did._

_He can still remember the fear that seized him when he saw Tony hug the missile as if it was his lifeline. He can still remember the fear that seized him when he saw Tony lose his grip on the missile. He can still remember the fear that seized him when he heard the screams of terror of the civilians. _

_They could have died, Steve thinks. If Tony hadn't caught the missile in time, so many innocent people would have died. He can still remember the screams of terror, the explosion, the fire, the falling debris, the nothingness. Steve doesn't know what scared him the most: the thought of Tony dying or the thought of all the innocent lives that could have been taken away. But does it matter? No, because the fact remains that Tony should have followed his orders and it didn't involve catching a missile made for Steve._

_He wanted to hurt, hurt, hurt Tony. He wanted to make Tony feel the pain he was feeling, the hurt he was suffering, the fear the was seizing him. Someone should stop him. He's losing control. Someone should stop his madness. Someone should stop him before he does something he will regret when the anger fades and the calmness comes. But no one does and so Steve moves in for the kill._

_"I don't even know what I ever saw in you. You're impulsive, you're reckless, you're disobedient, and you're selfish, Tony! You don't care about anyone else but yourself. Being with you is stressful and I'm..." Steve sighs, his shaking hands smoothing his hair backwards. He wanted to sit. He wanted to lie on his bed and close his eyes and forget. Hell, he even wanted a drink even if it won't affect him. "...I'm tired, Tony. I'm just tired."_

_Steve knows he's gone too far. Judging by the flicker of surprise, hurt, and pain that crossed the genius' face, Steve knows he's gone too far. He knows he should stop. He knows going forward will make irreparable damage to their relationship. But he doesn't know what possessed him, he doesn't know what's gotten into him because the next thing he knew, he's already said the words he would always regret saying._

_"Let's just end this."_

* * *

It's been three months since he and Tony had broken up; three months of pain, three months of longing, three months of regret. He still doesn't know what possessed him that day. He doesn't know what possessed him to break up with Tony, to leave the only man that made living in the future bearable.

Maybe he was just tired, tired of watching Tony sacrifice himself, tired of the sleepless nights, tired of thinking if today was their last day together, tired of thinking that Tony's selfless acts would finally kill him. He was tired, so tired. But he didn't quite expect that leaving Tony would make him feel even more tired, make the eye bags beneath his eyes grow darker, make his world duller, make his life blander.

At least before, he had Tony. He had a warm body to hug every night after one tiring mission, a warm body to assure Steve that Tony was still alive and that he himself was still breathing, a warm body to remind him that he was living in 2012, away from the war and away from the deaths of Bucky and his friends, a warm body to remind him of the reason why living in the future was worth it.

He had nothing now. No warm body to assure him of his mortality, no warm body to chase away the nightmares, no warm body to make him look forward to tomorrow. No Tony. No more Tony. No more warm, selfless, sarcastic Tony.

Steve cracks an egg and pours it on a small bowl. He whisks it, adding the fresh tomatoes he chopped earlier. He adds a pinch of salt and pours the mixture into the heated pan. He patiently waits for one side of the egg to cook then flips it.

He never knew leaving Tony would hurt even more than being with him. If he knew, if he knew, if he just knew, he would never have left. God, why did he leave? Why?

Steve turns off the stove and transfers the egg to Tony's favorite red and gold plate. He tops it with a few more tomatoes and squeezes a generous amount of ketchup on the egg. Tony would love it, Steve's sure. Even if he won't tell Steve how much he loves them anymore, it was fine because every time he watches Tony take a bite of his eggs, he could always see the delight in Tony's eyes. and for Steve, that was enough.

How could he ever ask for more? After everything he's done?

Steve places the plate of eggs on Tony's mat, scrambled with tomatoes and just a pinch of salt, just the way he likes it. "Your breakfast, Tony. Eat it before it gets cold."

Tony looks up from his conversation with Bruce, glances at the eggs and returns to his animated lecture about the wonders of physics, but not before giving Steve a fleeting smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Cap."

Cap, Steve thinks bitterly. It's never Steve anymore or Steviebear or Capsicle, or Steviebunch. Just Cap. Just plain ol' Cap. And Steve's learned to accept that. He'll take whatever he can get, after all. Even if it's the impersonal Cap, it's fine. As long as Tony continues to talk to him and acknowledge his presence, it's fine. Even if it hurts, it's fine.

But still, Steve couldn't help but feel the disappointment, his heart heavy and clenching and hurting as memories of the old came back to him, memories of the conversations, the teasing, the playful banter, memories of Tony smiling, Tony laughing and Tony loving that always left Steve satisfied, glowing and happy.

_"Breakfast," Steve says, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Tony, the beautiful scent distracting him from whatever he was doing with his tablet. The genius looks at the eggs warily, poking it with suspicion._

_Steve smiles. "With tomatoes. And," he slides the ketchup towards Tony. "Ketchup."_

_At that, Tony beams, pours a generous amount of ketchup on his eggs and eats a mouthful, moaning every now and then. "These are heavenly, Steve. How do you do it?"_

_Steve slides the last egg towards Natasha, sunny side up, just the way she likes it. "Do what?" He asks as he takes the seat across Tony._

_"You know," Tony waves his fork. "Knowing how everybody likes to have their eggs in the morning. Like how Bruce likes his Benedict style, how Clint likes his fried and how Thor likes his with Pop Tarts. It's like you have this sort of magic power or something."_

_Beside him, Clint snorts. "Yeah right! I bet he could seduce one of our bad guys to join the light by cooking their favorite egg recipe."_

_"I bet he could!" Tony defends Steve, arms crossed like a pouting child. "Steve is just _that_ awesome! Aren't you, Steviebear?" Tony asks with a cheeky grin, batting his lashes for effect._

_"You're just saying that because he's your boyfriend!"_

_"Well, that and he really is! I'm sure Natasha and Bruce agree with me. And Thor would too if he wasn't so busy exchanging spit with his girlfriend in New Mexico."_

_He looks at the other two avengers expectantly._

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

_Natasha swallows a mouthful of eggs. Bruce shrugs. Clint laughs. And Tony makes a sound of frustration._

_Steve watches his genius with fond exasperation. He loves this man so much, so, so much that he would throw everything away for him. He watches as Tony and Clint bicker. He watches as Natasha and Bruce watch the scene with amusement. Steve continues to eat his eggs, hard boiled, just the way he likes them, and he watches everything with a smile on his face._

_"Well, whatever." Tony says, hands thrown up in frustration though Steve could see the tell tale signs of a warm and glowing smile coming. "Steve is the best boyfriend ever and that's that."_

_Steve's smile grows until it hurts. He tries to hide it but knows that he doesn't succeed because of Bruce's and Natasha's knowing smiles. But as Steve continues to eat his eggs and listen to Tony go on and on as to why he was the best boyfriend ever, Steve finds that he doesn't really care._

As the memories start to fade, Steve watches Tony with a sad smile on his face. He watches Tony talk animatedly with Bruce, waving his egg-filled fork back and forth, back and forth as he tries to defend himself from Bruce's arguments. "No, Bruce! You're wrong! Even if the law of thermodynamics clearly states that…"

Steve tries to drown out Tony's warm, familiar, beautiful voice. Hearing it always made him ache, and hurt and long for the man that he once had in his arms but was too dumb to let go. He looks at his eggs, hard boiled, just the way he liked it, just the way he was _supposed_ to like it. He pokes them with his fork, rolling them back and forth, back and forth. They don't look quite appetizing anymore. He's not even sure why he liked them in the first place. They were bland and dry and boring.

Just like him. Just like his life without Tony.

Dull, boring, tiring, bland.

He looks up from his plate just as Tony laughs, the warm, sunny, glowing laughter filling the room with beautiful, beautiful symphony. Steve felt like he could drown in them, swim in them, bathe in them but not before realizing that the laugh wasn't_for_ him, wasn't _because_ of him, wasn't _with_ him.

And it hurts. The realization hurts.

His face crumples in grief, in pain, in longing, in regret. Again, he tries to hide it but knows he doesn't quite succeed because of Clint and Natasha's knowing looks. He shakes his head, trying to shake away the pain, the ache, the hurt. He looks down again. He looks at the single egg on his plate: alone, broken and lonely. He takes a bite with his fork as he tries to fend away the memories of Tony. Sweet, sweet, lovely Tony.

His laugh, his smile, his sarcasm, his brilliance, his genius, his selflessness, his insecurities, his faults, his flaws, his warmth, his glow, his voice, his scent, his _love_.

Steve finishes his eggs and silently stands up so as not to draw any attention. He places his plate on the dishwasher, deciding to wash it later. He just wanted to be away, away from Tony, away from the man he once had and might never have again. He starts to walk away but not before sparing one last look at Tony. He drinks in the fire in those beautiful brown eyes, the life in those movements, the excitement in Tony's voice, the glow in Tony's aura.

His heart clenches painfully. But it's okay, Steve thinks. It's his fault, anyway. He shouldn't have left. He should never have left.

Because he should have stayed.

* * *

_"Steve." Tony looks stricken, scared, pained. "You can't..you can't possibly."_

_Steve remains silent and he watches as Tony lets the revelation sink in._

_"You're…you're breaking up with me? In front of everyone?" Steve hears the crack in the genius' voice. And it takes everything in him to stop himself from gathering Tony in his arms and whisper reassurances that everything was going to be fine, that Steve was lying and that no, they weren't breaking up._

_Maybe he should have done just that but he was tired. He was just so tired so instead, he nodded._

_"I am." He whispers in a soft voice, afraid that if he raised it any higher, he would hear the shattering of Tony's heart in the stillness of the room. "I'm sorry." And he really is. Tony deserves better. He deserves better than Steve breaking up with him in front of their friends. But too late for regrets. Too late. Too late._

_Steve looks at Tony one last time. He takes in the hunch of Tony's shoulder, the dimness of Tony's eyes, the paleness of his features. When Steve couldn't take it anymore, he turns his back on Tony, on everything they've suffered and shared together. He slowly walks away. The automatic door opens with a swish. Steve was about to step out but not before hearing Tony's little, broken voice._

_"You're leaving."_

_He could hear Tony step back._

_"Just like everyone who promised to stay, you're leaving."_

_Another step further away from Steve._

_"You're turning your back on me."_

_He heard Tony break the window. And he's flying, flying, flying in his armor. Away from Steve, away from them, away from the pain._

_"Just like everyone else did."_

_And as Steve clenches his fist, he doesn't know what hurts more. Him turning his back on Tony, or Tony turning his back on him._

* * *

**Notes:** The quote from the summary was written by the Filipino author, Bob Ong. It was in Filipino so I took the liberty to translate it into English. Crappy translation but it works anyway. For those who can understand and read Filipino, here is the original quote:

"Alam mo ba kung gaano kalayo ang pagitan ng dalawang tao kapag nagtalikuran na sila? Kailangan mong libutin ang buong mundo para makaharap ulit ang taong tinalikuran mo." - Bob Ong

Anyway, thank you for reading this story! Comments are very much appreciated.

PS: This story is unbetaed so if there are any mistakes, please do inform me. Thank you!


End file.
